


I'll taste the sky and feel alive again

by csmithman



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Compliant, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Grieving, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Langst, M/M, Mental Illness, PTSD, Post-Canon, Season/Series 08 Spoilers, Spoilers, Time Skips, angst because of season 8, but things will get better, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 15:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16998048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/csmithman/pseuds/csmithman
Summary: A story of healing, in parts.





	I'll taste the sky and feel alive again

**Author's Note:**

> After finishing season 8, I had to write this. Warning: I made myself cry writing this. It's definitely heavy at first, but will eventually end up happy, I promise!

The first year was rough.

 

After the creation of New Altea, the reestablishment of the realities, and the loss of one of their own, the paladins weren’t doing so well.

 

Lance especially.

 

* * *

 

Things got worse before they got better.

 

Returning to consciousness in their reality, in their lions, they barely had a second to regroup before shouts and calls came over their radios. Coran came through to cheer about their safe return. When no one answered him, his tone became more concerned. Shiro somberly assured him they were alright, and that they’d see him back on the Atlas.

 

A pall fell over the group. After all, they weren’t alright, were they?

 

They slowly made their way back to the Atlas, Keith towing Blue. As they waited for Coran and the others to return to the ship, the five of them exchanged tense glances. Who was going to tell Coran? It was going to break the man’s heart, and none of them were ready for that. Their own hearts were already broken. Adding on the burden of hurting a man who had come to feel like a surrogate father to them would break them.

 

When Coran finally arrived, he already knew something was not right. He walked into the hangar -- no one wanting to leave the lions at a time like this -- with a wary gait. He spied Lance, his face hidden in Hunk’s shoulder as he quietly cried. He saw Keith, comforting a pale and quiet Pidge. He turned to Shiro, who had never looked so tired, even after everything he’d been through.

 

It was up to the Captain to break the news.

 

“Shiro?” Coran questioned. “What happened? Where… where is she?”

 

Shiro looked at the face of a man who had lost so much -- his planet, his loved ones, his ship -- and knew he had to tell Coran that he’d lost yet one more thing.

 

“I’m sorry, Coran,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “The realities were destroyed. Honerva almost erased all existence. Allura…” he trailed off, nearly overcome, before gathering his strength to continue. Coran deserved to know. “Allura knew there was a way to restore them. Quintessence could make things right -- but it came with a cost. She knew the cost. She made her choice... She saved us all.”

 

Coran’s eyes widened as Shiro told him the news. He whispered a quiet “no” under his breath, but he knew it was true. Coran looked at the paladins, grieving, looked at Shiro, eyes filled with pain, looked at the Blue Lion --  _ empty  _ \-- and tears filled his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

No one really slept that first night. They stayed in the hangar, as if being near the Blue Lion would keep them closer to Allura. Shiro and Coran had to deal with official business, but conducted it from the hangar, refusing to leave the other paladins. The Atlas crew stepped up, wanting to spare their Captain any further pain.

 

Nightfall found Pidge curled up between Matt, who had stayed by her side since the moment he arrived, and their dog, eyes closed out of exhaustion but no real rest to be found. Hunk was tinkering with the Yellow Lion, hands fidgeting with restless energy even as he felt weary to the bone. Keith stood on guard, unable to relax, watching over the hangar -- especially Pidge, so small and young -- as if to protect them all from any further pain. Shiro was speaking quietly with Veronica and Curtis, coordinating their next move, but his eyes flickered around the hangar, checking in on each of his paladins, distraction evident in his posture.

 

Lance stood apart from the rest, quieter and stiller than he had ever been. Hands in his pockets and eyes raised, he stood at the foot of the Blue Lion, sharing in the grief at losing someone important to them both.

 

Coran finished his conversation with Slav and Sam and walked over to the former Blue Paladin. Lance tensed as Coran approached, his shoulders creeping up and his head hanging as if to hide the evidence on his face.

 

But Coran had long since seen the blue marks on Lance’s cheekbones, knew that Lance had been changed in the void.

 

“She gave you the Mark of the Chosen,” he stated as he neared the Paladin’s side. His voice was tired, and sad, but not angry as Lance had feared. He chanced a look at the older man and saw no recriminations, just sorrow. Grief.  _ Sympathy _ .

 

“What does it mean?”

 

“Well, you’re not Altean, so I doubt you can unlock the mysteries of alchemy, even if Oriande hadn’t been destroyed. I think…” Coran trailed off, as if to figure out how to phrase it right. “I think, it means what you want it to mean.”

 

“She told me--” Lance’s voice cracked, unable to continue. Tears flowed freely down his face; he wasn’t sure if he had stopped crying all day. “She told me that she would always be with me. I think.... I  _ want  _ it to mean that she’s still here, somehow.”

 

“She’s gone, Lance,” Coran replied, heartbroken but somehow still worried about Lance.

 

“I know that! I do. She’s… she’s not coming back. I know that. But... “ Lance reached a hand up to touch the markings on his face, touch delicate. “But maybe she’s still with me, somehow.”

 

Coran placed a gentle hand on Lance’s shoulder.

 

“I think that’s lovely. She’ll never truly leave us.”

 

Lance looked Coran in the eye, squaring his shoulders.

 

“Coran, I’m  _ so  _ sorry. I failed you. I don’t know how you can even look at me, but I just wanted you to know that I know I'll never be able to make it up to you.”

 

“Lance, what are you talking about? You’ve done nothing wrong,” Coran hastened to reassure, but Lance wasn’t swayed.

 

“You asked me if I was worthy. Obviously I wasn’t. You were right to be wary of me dating Allura. Obviously I wasn’t the right choice, and I failed you. I failed to protect her, and now she’s gone. You lost her because of me. I should have been better, and I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough.”

 

Coran gripped Lance by both shoulders and forced the boy to look him in the eye. His face was grim, but determined, as he tried to set matters straight.

 

“Lance, listen to me. _You’ve_ _done nothing wrong_ ,” Coran repeated. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that you were in any way to blame for what happened. Allura made her choice. There was no other way, and she knew that. Allura sacrificed herself to save all realities, because that was who she was. She was a hero. You haven’t failed me, my boy. There was nothing you could have done.”

 

At this, Lance’s quiet tears turned into wrenching sobs. He hugged Coran fiercely, crying into the older man’s shoulder, pouring out the grief that seemed overwhelming. The other people in the hangar looked to see what was happening, but kept their distance. Coran, for his part, let Lance work his way through the grief, patting him on the back and crying quietly himself.

 

“It will be alright, my boy. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but we will get through this.”

 

“How?” Lance sobbed.

 

“One quintant at a time. And together.”


End file.
